I'm Not Gay

9

When Zayn  finally answered his goddamn phone after two weeks of being AWOL, Harry wasn’t in a very forgiving mood.

“Where the hell have you been?” he hissed, more than a little angry—and hurt. To be fair, they had never been attached at the hip and they’d gone longer than two weeks without seeing each other. But this time it had felt…different. Besides, Zayn had always answered when Harry called him Always. Even when they didn’t hang out for months, they usually texted or talked on the phone. This time Zayn had clearly been avoiding him. 

“Sorry, I was just caught up in something,” Zayn said.

“In something,” Harry said flatly, deeply unimpressed. What was so important that Zayn totally ignored him for weeks? 

“Someone,” Zayn said. “I’ve met a guy. His name is Brad. He’s a law student too.”

Harry stared at the opposite wall unseeingly, feeling blindsided by the news.

“Brad?” he said at last. “He sounds like a prat. Brad the Prat. Brad is, like, in the Top 5 douchiest names in the world.”

“You’re such a child, haz.” Zayn sounded as though he was smiling. “He’s a sweetheart. We’ve been on a few dates already. I really like him. He’s just my type.”

Harry decided he didn’t like this Brad person. For a moment, he wasn’t sure why he felt so strongly about a guy he hadn’t even met. Then he realized something: if Zayn was dating someone, that would mean he would stop... Boyfriends generally weren’t okay with their significant others fucking someone else.

Harry pursed his lips. “But what about me?”

There was silence on the line. 

“You?” Zayn said at last.

Harry frowned. Wasn’t it obvious what he meant? Was Zayn going to force him to say it aloud?

“That Brad person probably wouldn’t allow you to fuck me on the side,” Harry said.

“You’re probably not wrong,” Zayn said, his voice extremely dry.

“Zayn.” Harry was aiming for reproachful, but his voice came out all wrong, whiny and pouty. What was it about Zayn that reduced him to a total child? It was seriously baffling.

Zayn laughed. “Don’t, Haz. Just don’t. Surely you don’t think I’ll put my personal life on hold until you get over your fixation on cock?”

Harry frowned again. “But you’re my best mate,” he said, but it came out unsure. After the past few weeks, he wasn’t exactly as confident about it as he used to be.

“I’m pretty sure fucking you isn’t among my duties as a best friend,” Zayn said. He no longer sounded amused. Harry wasn’t sure what was in Zayn’s voice, but whatever it was, he didn’t like it.

“Of course it’s not your duty,” he said quickly. “I just…” His face became hot. Harry cleared his throat. “Never mind. You’re right. You should totally date whoever you want. I’ll—I’ll figure something out.”

He hung up, feeling ridiculously upset for no reason. This was pathetic. He wasn’t some kind of…cock slut. He could totally be friends with Zayn without wanting his cock. Even if he were a cock slut, it wasn’t necessarily for Zayn’s cock. Any cock would do. In theory. 

Harry’s phone went off. It was Zayn.

“What do you mean you’ll figure something out?” Zayn said when Harry answered.

Harry pressed his lips together. Why was it Zayn’s business? Zayn was free to date that little prat of his; he’d made it clear that he didn’t care about Harry at all. First he ignored Harry for weeks, now this.